


one more night

by cominupforair



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Actor Arthur, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealous Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Merlin's trying to break up with Arthur, POV Merlin (Merlin), also it is set at Christmas, because there's nothing better than a little bit of angst for Christmas am I right?, cause he thinks Arthur cheated on him, it's a break up fic but not actually a break up fic?, so yeah there's a bit of angst, writer Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cominupforair/pseuds/cominupforair
Summary: Arthur is going to break up with him.Scratch that.Merlin is going to break up with Arthur before Arthur can break up with him.There, that’s better.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 317





	one more night

**Author's Note:**

> In my defense, this (slightly) Christmassy fic was supposed to get posted back in December, but then life happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope you'll enjoy it even though it's [checks notes] almost February? This lockdown is really making me lose track of time. 
> 
> Anyway, I don't think there are any big content warnings for this fic, but if you think I missed some tags, please let me know in the comments!

Arthur is going to break up with him. 

Scratch that.

Merlin is going to break up with Arthur before Arthur can break up with him. 

There, that’s better. 

Arthur is going to realise what an absolute idiot he’s saddled himself with. 

Scratch that too.

Arthur already _knows_ he is saddled with an idiot. Not a day pass that he doesn’t tell him. And Merlin is okay with it. He is okay because usually Arthur tells him he is an idiot between kisses. Soft kisses on his lips. Soft kisses on his eyelids when Merlin stays up working too late and has a raging headache. Soft kisses on the top of his head when Arthur comes back home and finds him on the sofa, typing on his laptop with their cat Aithusa sleeping on his legs. 

But there have been no soft kisses in a while. No kisses at all, to be honest. 

Arthur is never home and, when he is, he barely looks at him. 

Merlin can tell that Arthur wants to end this. 

Arthur is a world-famous actor. Arthur is 33 and has already won an Oscar. Arthur is handsome and talented. Arthur features on the covers of countless magazines. Arthur can have anyone he wants, and he’s saddled with Merlin. A failure of a novelist. 

Arthur had fallen in love with what Merlin used to be - a young brilliant writer with potential, an agent and an editor. Half a dozen books planned, most of them bound to become bestsellers. Arthur had fallen in love with _that_ Merlin. 

Not with _this_ Merlin. 

Merlin who is struck with the worst case of writer’s block and hasn’t written more than fifty pages in the last year. Merlin who scraps by with short articles for random newspapers and magazines. Merlin who had begun writing a fantasy saga, _Excalibur_ , when he was 18 and desperately in love with his roommate Arthur. A saga whose protagonist, Art, looks and behaves exactly like Arthur. A saga which has garnered him fans all over the world, but a saga which Merlin just can’t finish writing. 

Of course, Arthur wants to break up with him. 

Oh and then there’s also the small matter of the tabloids. Merlin has lost count of how many times he’s seen the pictures of Arthur and his agent Mithian on their covers. All of them have headlines like “ _Who’s the brunette Arthur Pendragon is dating_?”, “ _Is the story with Merlin Emrys over? The photos of Arthur Pendragon’s new girlfriend_ ”, “ _Is Arthur Pendragon’s Fairy Tale Love Story with Writer Merlin Emrys over_?”. And the photos themselves are eloquent, so much that the headlines seem superfluous. Arthur has been photographed while he was strolling arm in arm with Mithian, while Mithian leaned close and whispered something in Arthur’s ear, while Arthur smiled softly at her, while they walked into a hotel together. The only thing missing is a photo in which they kiss, but Merlin is glad he’s been spared the sight. 

Arthur would’ve probably already broken up with him if he didn’t feel sorry for him. And if it wasn’t Christmas time. 

It’s not like he and Arthur have family lunches or dinners they can’t _not_ show up to together. The only family Arthur has left is his sister Morgana who has recently moved across the ocean with her boyfriend. And the only family Merlin has left is his mother and his uncle Gaius, who regularly sail on a cruise together and spend Christmas sipping margaritas under the scorching sun of the Caribbean. 

Their Christmas usually is nothing more than a quiet lunch. And then they spend the day snuggled together on the couch, drinking eggnog and getting increasingly tipsier while they watch stupid Christmas film on tv. 

Arthur could have definitely broken up with him before Christmas. Nobody would’ve noticed. Merlin isn’t a fragile thing that needs to be handled with care. Merlin is positive he wouldn’t have made a scene, he would’ve only shed a couple thousand tears. But quietly. 

Merlin has to break up with Arthur before Arthur breaks his heart. 

But he also wants a few more nights, a few more days of Arthur being his. Of Arthur being home with him. And maybe a kiss, but _just Arthur_ is enough. Merlin can settle for that. For Arthur being his, on the surface at least. 

Merlin gives himself five days. Five days and then he will break up with Arthur. 

-

On day one, Merlin wakes up to the sound of Arthur talking on the phone. It isn’t even 9 am and Merlin is wearing nothing but the trousers of his fleece pyjamas and a pair of mismatched socks, his hair is a messy tangle of black curls. Arthur though - Arthur is sitting at his desk, already dressed, wearing his usual suit and tie, his blonde hair perfectly combed and styled.

Merlin is so lucky to have him. Except he isn’t sure he has him anymore. He has no idea where he stands with Arthur and that, somehow, is worse than knowing he’s lost his partner for good. 

Arthur is smiling on the phone, being charming and probably making Mithian swoon. Just like he made Merlin swoon every time he called him in the morning and wished him a happy day when he was on the other side of the world shooting another blockbuster. When he couldn’t kiss Merlin over croissants and coffee like they usually did every time Arthur was home. When he always made time to call Merlin in the evening even though their time zones clashed. When Arthur woke up at the arse crack of dawn just to hear Merlin’s voice. 

Arthur hasn’t done that in a while. Neither the kisses, nor the phone calls. 

And yet he is smiling on the phone, one of his stupidly shy and beautiful smiles. Those he doesn’t show to just anyone, those that aren’t for the cameras, but one of those he saves only for the people he trusts, the people he loves.

Merlin isn’t ready for the pang of jealousy that burns in his stomach. The ferocity with which he wishes he could swap places with Mithian or just go back to the start. To the very first _Hi_ with Arthur. Do it all again and make sure he’ll never have to doubt whether Arthur is his or anyone else’s.

All Merlin can hear is Arthur’s charming and flirtatious voice. The “Mithian this” and “Mithian that”. He can’t hear Mithian’s voice, but he knows she must be flirting back and being charming in turn. Because, unlike him, she is charming and conventionally pretty and graceful. Merlin might be gay, but he has eyes. And Arthur is just letting it happen, he is playing along. He probably thinks Merlin is still sleeping and he can get away with it without anyone noticing. 

Arthur lets out a laugh, soundless, but one of those that make him throw his head back and causes his shoulders shake. 

It always hurts to look at Arthur. When he is focused on his papers and mindlessly chewing the cap of his pen. When he ruminates on his father’s words and his shoulders sag, painfully stiff. When he rehearses his lines, one foot nervously tapping against the coffee table. When he gets ready for the premiere of one of his films and he shines so bright Merlin thinks he is a star. 

But mostly it hurts to look at Arthur when he is laughing.

There is no safe time to look at Arthur, nothing about him that doesn’t tear his heart apart. But Arthur laughing in that way with someone that isn’t him is a whole new kind of pain.

Maybe one day Merlin will laugh about this too. About this whole awful part of his life. When Merlin thought he could have famous actor Arthur Pendragon for himself. Forever. But Arthur kept slipping through his fingers in a painful slow motion that felt like torture and there was nothing Merlin could do to stop it, no matter how hard he tried. 

Merlin lets himself look at Arthur for a couple more seconds – his familiar shape, the straight line of his back, his strong legs – before pushing his face into the pillow and yawning. He arches his back until he hears his bones popping, stretches his arms upwards and turns under the covers a couple of times. 

Merlin knows Arthur has heard him because he immediately lowers his voice and stifles his laughs. He takes one more minute to gather himself, closes his eyes and draws three steadying breaths. 

When he finally sits up, running fingers haphazardly through his hair, Arthur is staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, a small grimace on his face and a frown between his brows. 

Merlin doesn’t dare break the silence that’s now occupying the room, he only nods, his mouth curled into a bitter smile, before he stands up and leaves. 

-

On day two, Merlin is sitting on the sofa, his laptop on his legs and a thousand scraps of paper scattered around him, his phone cradled to his ear. 

“No, Elena, no, I don’t have any updates, I’ve only written ten more pages in the past month and most of them are just rewritings of parts I didn’t like from the last chapter.”

“Merlin – “ Elena, his agent, never pressures him, but Merlin is aware he can’t afford to continue like this. No wonder he is beginning to dread her calls. Merlin just hopes Elena can’t detect lies over the phone.

“I know, Elena, okay, I know. I promise I’ll do better, it’s just a bad moment, I have a lot of ideas, I just don’t know where to start from, but I’ll get there. I swear.” 

“I believe in you, Merlin, I do.” Thank goodness Elena is the most understanding person Merlin has ever worked with. Unlike his editor George who sends him not-so-subtle death threats every time Merlin submits farfetched chapters or random scenes in no particular order. Elena is the only reason Merlin hasn’t already given up on _Excalibur_. 

“Are there any news about the film adaptation?” Merlin asks just because he is feeling particularly masochist today. He already knows the answer. 

“No, Merls, I’m sorry, I pitched your books to almost a hundred film producers and distributors, but so far none of them have replied. They don’t know that they’re missing out on.”

“It’s okay Elena, I know you’re doing your best,” Merlin replies. It’s not like he was expecting anything else.

“I promise you they’ll change their minds! Don’t forget to call me back when you have news about the novel.” Elena says. 

Merlin nods, only belatedly realising that Elena can’t see him. “Yeah, I will.”

“Now I’m sorry Merlin, but I have to go, I have a date with my girlfriend, she’s going to murder me if I’m late for dinner.” 

“Oh the brunette you mentioned the last time we talked?” Merlin asks, his lips automatically curling up at how flustered Elena sounds every time she mentions her new girlfriend.

“That one. I better hurry up, bye Merlin!”

“Yes, go, we don’t want her dumping you before Christmas. Bye Elena!”

The minute Elena ends the call, Merlin deflates, but Arthur obviously chooses that exact moment to walk into the living room after his habitual evening gym session. Arthur shoots him a quizzical look and Merlin simply looks back at him, throat filled with a thousand conflicting emotions. 

Every time Merlin feels like he was slipping away, slipping too far, he holds onto the thing he is always sure of. Arthur. Blue eyes, blond hair, chiselled jaw and crooked teeth. 

Merlin can’t help but think that Arthur, this Arthur, this one with his hair wet and messy, his feet bare, but still picture perfect – well, this Arthur used to be Merlin’s. 

Maybe he still is. His. 

“Elena?” Arthur finally asks.

Merlin only nods, smiling ruefully while he tucks his phone into his pocket. 

Maybe Arthur still is. _His_. Enough that Merlin is allowed to ask his boyfriend to sit next to him on the armchair. Enough that Arthur finishes towelling his hair dry and says yes without hesitations, their thighs brushing against each when he slips into the space beside Merlin. 

Merlin dreads the moment he won’t be allowed to draw comfort from being close to Arthur. 

From _this_. 

Merlin sometimes wishes he’d never figured out that he loved Arthur, he should’ve known he couldn’t have him. Now he will probably have to spend the rest of his life trying to find someone exactly like Arthur fucking Pendragon. Maybe he will fill his books with more characters who look and behave exactly like him. And then he will break each of their hearts in a thousand different ways. That is, if he can finally find a way to beat his writer’s block. Ugh. 

Merlin groans, bends his neck and buries his head in his hands. 

Arthur automatically reaches over and slings his arm around Merlin’s back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades in a familiar soothing motion. Merlin almost feels like crying when the knots along his spine immediately relax. 

-

Day three is no better. 

Merlin should be used to fans thirsting over Arthur. It is part and parcel of having a famous boyfriend. And Arthur has way too much fun accepting the weirdest challenges and sharing videos of said challenges with his fans on social medias. 

So, technically, Merlin shouldn’t be surprised to find a new video of Arthur on Twitter. 

The truth is that he’d opened Twitter to do some research for his book, he was determined to finally kick his writer’s block in the ass, but then he’d seen the video and all his good intentions had vanished into thin air. Puff, like magic. 

The video isn’t anything unusual, just Arthur accepting a challenge from one of his friends and successfully cracking a watermelon open with his thighs. Merlin isn’t even remotely surprised that Arthur didn’t struggle with the watermelon, he, ehm, he knows pretty well what Arthur is capable of doing with his thighs, thank you very much. 

It’s just that Merlin hadn’t known about the video. 

The thing is, Merlin had been Arthur’s sidekick long before he’d become Arthur’s boyfriend. In the early days they were roommates and friends, the whole world knew Merlin as “the guy who lived with Pendragon and was in all of his videos”, not as “the guy who wrote books and dated Pendragon”. 

It was Merlin who had recorded and edited Arthur’s Instagram videos. It was Merlin who had poured ice water on Arthur’s head for the ASL Ice Bucket challenge. And it was Merlin who then had to read the comments out loud to Arthur.

It was one of their traditions. 

On Thursdays, Merlin and Arthur usually grabbed a beer and read the comments Arthur’s fans left under his posts. Sometimes Gwaine, Perce, Elyan, and Lance joined them and they turned it into a drinking game while trying to find the best comment of the week. Often, the voting process ended up involving the entire pub because, well, because Gwaine was Gwaine. 

Most of the time, however, it was just Merlin and Arthur sitting close to each other on the sofa and getting increasingly tipsier while they read the comments and laughed.

This is how Merlin had found out that Arthur was gay.

_ “Man, presumably in his 40s with a dog in his profile picture says “Those abs are obviously fake, are you all blind? They are fake. FAKE.”” Merlin tried really hard not to burst out laughing when he saw Arthur’s outraged face. _

_ “What’s that man’s username?” _

_ “It’s – wait – myd0gisbetterthany0urs with zeros instead of the letter O.” _

_ “Well, then, myd0gisbetterthany0urs with zeros instead of the letter O, my ABS are real and my cat is definitely better than your dog, thank you very much.” _

_ “It’s my cat!” Merlin rebutted. _

_ “Yes, but Aithusa likes me better than you, onto the next comment Merls!” _

_ Merlin flipped him off and continued scrolling the comments, “Wait, let me find another good one – here, old lady says “Arthur stop dating that insipid redhead-“ _

_ “Who am I dating now?” Arthur frowned. _

_ “I guess she thinks you’re actually dating your co-star in that Medieval film you’re shooting now?” _

_ “Sofia?” _

_ “Yes, Sofia. Anyway, let me continue, “Arthur stop dating that insipid redhead and start dating my daughter, she loves you more. Go look at her photos on my profile!”” Merlin laughed when he browsed the old lady’s profile only to find ugly collages of her children’s pics, a girl and a boy in their early twenties, and countless Hello Kitty stickers.  _

_ “Here, look Arthur!” Merlin said with a smirk while he handed Arthur his phone. _

_ Arthur scrolled through the photos, stopped for a while on one of them and then he handed Merlin his phone back. He said, “Do you think she’d mind if I dated her son instead of her daughter?” _

_ And Merlin, who had secretly been pining for Arthur for years, hadn’t been able stop thinking about Arthur’s words and that night’s revelation for days. His mind had just fixed on that.  _

_ And Merlin, being a writer and knowing that Arthur was way out of his league even though they now swung the same way, did what he knew what to do best. He’d started writing.  _

_ The story that was meant to be nothing more than a short novella just to get Arthur out of his mind grew out of proportions. Before Merlin fully realised what he was doing, he’d already drafted an entire book in less than five days and he had ideas for at least three more sequels. He’d just kept pouring his feelings for Arthur into his manuscript and, even though it was a fantasy book, a modern retelling of the Arthurian legend in which romance was only secondary, Merlin had really benefited from the opportunity of having an outlet for the chaos in his head. At least he wouldn’t risk bursting out and telling Arthur that he was arse over tits for him. _

_ Inevitably, Arthur had noticed that Merlin was spending more time than usual holed up in his room writing and writing and writing. Which wasn’t anything new per se, but usually Merlin shared his projects with Arthur, he wasn’t used to keeping things from him. It was just that the main character of the book he’d been drafting was unequivocally inspired by Arthur. The protagonist was literally called Art. And Arthur was not that stupid, if he read the book, he would easily put two and two together and realise that Merlin had feelings for him.  _

_ Which, as luck would have it, is exactly what had happened. Arthur, being the most amazing roommate in the world, had come back home after a long day of shooting his new film and had found Merlin asleep on his desk. He’d carried Merlin to his bed and covered him with a blanket.  _

_ The problem was that Merlin had fallen asleep while he was editing one of the chapters of his book and Arthur had seen it. _

_ The morning after, Merlin had woken up only to find Arthur already awake, sitting at the foot of his bed with Merlin’s laptop on his legs. And for some reasons Merlin still failed to understand, he’d told him that the book was amazing, and would Merlin please start dating him? _

Merlin shakes his head and tries to shoo away the memories from his mind, reminiscing the good old times with your boyfriend probably isn’t a good idea when you’re trying to work up the nerve of dumping him. He massages his temples in one last attempt of stopping the headache that’s building behind his eyes. He closes Twitter, turns off his laptop and leans his head back on the couch. 

Ironically, it all made sense. Merlin and Arthur had gotten together right after Merlin had finished writing the first book of _Excalibur_ and they would break up now, right when Merlin couldn’t finish its last instalment.

-

Day four is the worst because Merlin knows it’s the last day he’s allowed himself before he has to break up with Arthur. 

Merlin had thought he would react differently, he’d thought Arthur and him would come to blows with the same energy they had when they were still in college, screaming at each other over the stupidest things. A cliché: Merlin the poor hopeless scholarship student of creative writing and Arthur the son of film director Uther Pendragon, already destined to be a movie star. They were roommates and they hated each other, fiercely, and then they became best friends and slowly fell in love with the same exact fierceness. 

Merlin had never thought he’d be this passive – to be honest, he’d just never thought they’d come to this. He’d never contemplated the possibility that they could not be forever. That was what hurt the most. 

All those magazines and tabloids loved to depict their love story as a fairy-tale romance. Maybe it had gotten to his head. His mother told him, time and time again, that he should never build his world around a person because people leave. And he hadn’t, he hadn’t built his world around Arthur. Merlin has his books and his friends and his manuscripts and his cat Aithusa. 

It’s just that wherever he goes he can’t help but think of Arthur.

When he opens his books, he finds Arthur’s scribbled notes on the margins or Arthur’s dedications on the first page because his boyfriend is a sap and always writes something for him.

When Merlin takes up his manuscripts, he can’t help but be reminded that the very protagonist of his saga is literally Arthur. 

And when he cuddles his cat Aithusa, he can’t not remember all the time he has cuddled her _with_ Arthur. 

Even now Arthur is on their bed, mindlessly leafing through one of his new scripts while Aithusa sits on his legs. He’s on the bed, still wearing his fancy clothes and smiling, probably thinking about how much he can’t wait to break up with Merlin and start officially dating Mithian. What else would he be smiling about?

“New script?” Merlin asks, breaking the silence.

Hearing Merlin’s voice startles Arthur. He scrambles to hide the script under the covers. When he realises that it’s too late, Arthur scoffs and says, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Can I see?”

“No, don’t worry Merls, it’s just a stupid script, nothing will ever come of it,” but he is looking at the floor and colour drains from his face. Merlin knows how lies looked on Arthur’s face. And those are lies, lies, lies. 

Merlin opens his mouth to tell him as much, but then he changes his mind. He wasn’t expecting anything else, but it hurts anyway. He allows himself a moment of self-pity before mentally shaking himself. He doesn’t want to hear any more lies, he just wants to pretend everything is fine for one last night.

“Okay,” he says, trying to mimic Arthur’s casual tone. A ten-year relationship with an actor has taught him some tricks. 

Arthur, however, must realise there is something wrong anyway because he clears his throat with a loud cough and wiggles his eyebrows in a way that’s supposed to look flirting, but which Merlin always found ridiculous. 

He asks, “Want to watch one of The Dark Times film together?” 

The Dark Times films, as Merlin usually calls them, are the first movies Arthur had starred in in his late teens and early twenties. They are ridiculous rom coms in which Arthur plays the jock love interest of the main character. They’re full of gratuitous shirtless scenes, cheesy lines, and unnecessary clichés. Merlin and Arthur made a habit of watching and rewatching them together, quoting the lines to each other and making fun of them. Most of their film nights end with Arthur throwing popcorns at Merlin, Merlin complaining that there’ll be grease stains everywhere if Arthur doesn’t stop and Arthur, being Arthur, tackling him on the bed and kissing him until Merlin completely forgets about what they were watching. 

“Sure,” Merlin says. Arthur beams and goes to the living room to fetch the DVDs. 

Merlin just can’t help thinking that this is going to be their last film night together. There will be no more evenings like these after he breaks up with Arthur. After tomorrow. And then he’ll have to avoid watching Arthur’s films even though they are his favourites because his stomach will clench painfully every time he remembers what being with Arthur felt like. He will have to do his best to avoid the tabloids with Arthur’s face only to end up cursing the day he was born every time he sees a film poster on the side of the bus or on the tube. 

Arthur walks back into the room brandishing half a dozen DVDs. “Which one shall we watch?”

“The first one. It’s the most embarrassing, I’ll never tire of seeing you trying to woo a girl while wearing a sombrero and pretending really bad to be drunk.”

“It’s not my fault all the other actors had gone for method acting and were actually wasted, but I was still underage.”

“Well, if telling yourself that makes you feel better…” Merlin attempts a smile. 

“Yes, because it’s the truth,” Arthur elbows Merlin in the ribs and scoots close to him. 

“Ready?” he asks, the remote control already in his hand. 

Merlin nods. He feels worn out, he wants nothing more than anything to curl into himself and forget about everything. But Arthur turns off the lights, starts the movie and wraps his arm around Merlin’s shoulders, drawing him close. 

One last night and then Merlin will break up with him. 

-

On the fifth day, Christmas day, Merlin stupidly hoped Arthur would break up with him before Merlin had to do it himself. Which doesn’t make sense at all because the point of Merlin’s plan was that he didn’t want to get dumped.

As luck would have it, Arthur doesn’t break up with him on Christmas day, but he somehow makes it worse. He shows up for lunch late. And he shows up dishevelled, like he’s very recently had the best fuck of his life. The best fuck of his life which has obviously been without Merlin because Merlin spent the morning cooking and trying to put together a Christmas Lunch with capital L like his mother had taught him. And he’d done it for Arthur. And also to make himself feel better, but mostly for Arthur. And because it’s supposed to be his last lunch with Arthur before Merlin breaks up with him.

To make things worse Arthur just - Arthur just sits at the table, eats his portion of turkey and dryly compliments Merlin’s cooking, not once removing his eyes from his phone. 

Merlin isn’t even surprised when he sees the name of the person Arthur is texting and finds out it’s Mithian. He’s even less surprised when Arthur reads the text and mutters something about work and deadlines and having to leave. 

Merlin feels the tangle of anger and grief that had seethed quietly in the past weeks swell uncontrollably in his chest. It burns hot with frustration and rage, bleeding bitterness onto the back of his tongue. Merlin grits his teeth and tries to swallow it down, but it’s too much and Merlin is so _so_ done. 

“Mithian, right? You’d be so much happier with her. You’re doing the right thing dumping me for her,” Merlin finally says, feeling wretched but fighting to keep his voice from quaking. 

That stops Arthur on his tracks. He immediately sits back, almost like Merlin has slapped him. 

“What?”

“Mithian,” Merlin repeats, distress making his heart pound loud in his ears. 

“She’s just my agent,” Arthur says, his hand raising to cup Merlin’s face? To touch his shoulder? Maybe to cover his mouth? Merlin doesn’t know, he just blocks Arthur’s hand with his own, gripping Arthur’s wrist. 

“No Arthur, I’m happy for you, truly. She is very pretty and I’m sure you have a lot of things in common. You like her, I get it. That’s great. I hope you’ll be very happy with her,”  Merlin says, suddenly tired as hell. 

Arthur lets his hand fall and Merlin catches it again because he is weak and a constant disappointment to himself. And because Arthur is standing there, right in front of him, probably for one of the last times. 

“I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you” Arthur says to the world at large, throwing his hands in the air. Merlin has no time to be taken aback by the desperate look in Arthur’s eyes because he continues, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And if you think I’m ever letting you go, you’re wrong! It took me years to get you where I wanted you, next to me.”

Merlin persists. “I know what you and Mithian are up to,” he says looking into Arthur’s eyes. “You practically disappeared, you’re never here, you don’t tell me anything about work, not even about the stupid videos you post on Twitter! Sometimes it feels like being with a stranger. And I saw the photos and the texts with Mithian, I heard you calling her and flirting and smiling and-”

Arthur stares at him, his mouth hanging open. And then he does exactly the opposite of what Merlin was expecting from him. He raises his arms and starts laughing. The expression is somewhat jarring, perhaps because it’s been so long since Merlin has last seen such a look on Arthur’s face.

“I can’t believe I almost risked losing you for a Christmas gift!”

Arthur’s words give Merlin a whiplash. Almost losing? Christmas gift?

“What the fuck?” Merlin says in a steady voice, though he can feel his heart jumping stupidly in his chest. Maybe it’s a flicker of hope or maybe it’s a mental breakdown, Merlin isn’t sure. 

Arthur nods, still smiling, and repeats, “A Christmas gift, Merlin. I was with Mithian because I was trying to get you the perfect Christmas gift. Wait here a second –“ 

And with that Arthur disappears into their bedroom, leaving Merlin alone in the living room with no idea of what’s going on. He is however very glad Arthur has disappeared from his sight because he finds himself very tempted to strangle Arthur with his own two bare hands.

Thankfully, Arthur comes back to the living room with a script in his hands, the same script Arthur was reading two days earlier, his lips still curved into a lopsided smug smile. 

“Explain, now,” Merlin demands, trying to tamp down on the hysteria he feels clawing its way up his throat.

Arthur rolls his eyes and says, “Okay, long story short, a couple of months ago I found out that Elena was trying to pitch your books for a film adaptation. A little bird told me she was struggling because Cenred King, the idiot CEO of Essetir Film Productions, has beef with me and decided to take revenge of you and threatened his fellow producers if they showed any interest in optioning your books. So I contacted Elena and offered my help in exchange for a small favour. That’s why I was busy and I was never home”

“Elena knew what was going one and let me spiral into despair anyway?” 

“I’m afraid yes.” 

“I’m going to find another agent!” 

“No, you’re not. Not after I tell you what happened.” 

Merlin only grunts, not even daring to hope for the impossible. 

“You’re not going to fire Elena because the _Excalibur_ series has been optioned for a film adaptation.” Ok, it must be a mental breakdown because now he is also having auditory hallucinations. He doesn’t have time to say anything before Arthur continues. “And I’ll play Art in the film series!” 

Arthur hands him the script he was holding which, in fact, is not a script but a contract for four films, a rough draft of their plot and the very first concept arts. Cherry on top, it all comes with another contract, this one already signed, Arthur’s. 

Merlin is still trying to grasp what is happening when Arthur explains, “You started writing _Excalibur_ when we were both idiots thinking our feelings were unrequited and I know Art was inspired by me, I couldn’t let anyone else play him in the film adaptation. It’s always been a dream of mine and I know you’re struggling with the last book of the saga so I thought this could help you get back in the groove? Help you kick the writer’s block in the arse?”

And Merlin, well, Merlin does the second thing he knows how to do best after writing, he overreacts. 

“You idiot, you mean to tell me that you let me think that you were cheating on me and that you’d grown tired of me, instead of – I don’t just, just telling me that you were being busy at work or something else. Instead of literally avoiding me for months?”

Arthur smiles abashedly and closes the distance between them. One, two, three steps and then Arthur is in his space, his arms around Merlin’s shoulders, his nose in Merlin’s hair and his lips against Merlin’s temple. “You know I can’t keep a secret to save my life Merls, the only chance I had of not fucking it up was to avoid you as much as possible. Turns out I fucked up anyway, didn’t I?” 

A kiss against Merlin’s temple. 

Merlin nods, he is still fuming, but he suddenly realises he doesn’t want to remove his head from the crook of Arthur’s neck. Possibly never again. 

“I’m angry with you,” Merlin points out.

“I know,” Arthur replies, placing another kiss against Merlin’s temple.

Merlin sighs. “But that doesn’t explain Mithian,” 

“Jesus fucking Christ –“ Arthur begins then stops. He takes a deep breath, lets it out and then meets Merlin’s eyes. “No, Merlin, I’m not in love with Mithian. I am in love with _you_. Have been for the past ten years. She was just helping me organise everything. The paparazzi caught us together while she accompanied me to audition for the role of Art and thought I was having an affair.”

“And the phone call while you thought I was sleeping?” asks Merlin, his words muffled by the warm wool of Arthur’s jumper. 

“I couldn’t exactly talk about the project around you, could I? Mithian was just helping me out.” Arthur huffs a small laugh and continues, “Besides, she already has a partner.”

“Does she now?” Merlin frowns. 

“Yes, I think you know her, I’ve been told she’s a renowned literary agent,” Arthur chuckles. 

When realisation finally hits, Merlin can only gape. “You cannot possibly mean that the girl Elena has started dating is Mithian, it cannot be her, right?”

Arthur hums. “I’m afraid so. They’ve been dating for a couple of months now.”

Merlin wants to lock himself into a casket, swallow the key and bury himself into a very deep grave until he stops being embarrassed by the stupid assumptions he’d made. He’d jumped to conclusions and nearly destroyed his relationship with Arthur. 

“I’m an idiot,” Merlin mumbles, his head still hiding in the crook of Arthur’s neck because he doesn’t have the strength to look into his eyes. His throat burns as he tried to swallow the regret that has lodged into it, the shame that dries his tongue.

Arthur, however, grabs his chin and lifts Merlin’s head off his chest. “No, no, Merlin, look at me.” And Merlin obliges, unable to do otherwise when Arthur asks him. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. It’s not like I gave you any reason to think otherwise and I am terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have avoided you and made you feel like I wanted nothing to do with you anymore, I – I made a mistake, a huge one, can you please forgive me?”

Arthur stares down at him for a few moments, then brings his hand up to Merlin’s face and rubs his thumb across Merlin’s lips. 

“I guess I’ll have to, I missed you terribly and I want to watch more Dark Times film together with you. And the Christmas gift wasn’t that bad after all?” 

Arthur pretends, very badly, to be offended. Merlin can’t believe this man makes a living out of acting when he pulls such ridiculous faces. He says, “The Christmas gift _wasn’t that bad_?”

Merlin can’t help but laugh. Arthur smiles too, looking fondly at him, and finally, _finally_ , he closes the space between their faces to kiss him wetly. It is all so wonderful and unexpected Merlin feels like crying.

“No, it wasn’t bad, I think I’ll probably weep like a toddler when the realisation of what you’ve done finally hits. For now I’m just going to pretend it’s a fever dream and you’ll disappear when I wake up,” Merlin says when they break apart, their lips still so close he can count the freckles on Arthur’s cheekbones.

“I’m here Merls,” Arthur says. 

“I’m not sure I can believe you,” Merlin pretends to pout. “I need further proof.”

Arthur laughs again, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkled. One of those smiles, the ones Merlin loves. Merlin’s heart suddenly swells at the sight of Arthur, so familiar and beloved that it makes him ache. 

Arthur’s hand slides from cupping Merlin’s cheek to the back of his head and pulls him in for another kiss. A kiss that starts off soft, but ends with Arthur getting Merlin pressed against the wall. Merlin leans into the kiss like a man who’s been praying for rain for too long and his pleas have finally been answered.

When they break apart, Arthur whispers against his lips, “Here. Better now?”

His and Arthur’s faces are still so close that their mouths brush against each other when Merlin nods. 

Merlin has missed this so much, he thinks he might choke from the enormity of knowing that Arthur is right in front of him, his, still his, always his. He is almost breathless from the realisation of how close he’d come to losing this.

Merlin still can’t grasp the fact that all the scenarios he’d pictured in the past few weeks will, in fact, remain scenarios. Nothing more than that. He still can’t grasp that, let alone what Arthur has done for him. 

“I think you’ll do a good job as Art,” Merlin finally concedes, resting his head against Arthur’s chest. His lips curling into one of the biggest smiles Merlin remembers making.

“Yeah, it’s almost like the role was created specifically for me.” 

Merlin can’t see Arthur’s face, but he can hear him chuckling. He can feel his boyfriend’s fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. Arthur’s chest rumbling against his forehead. It almost looks like one of the scenes he was trying to write in his book, when Art was bantering with the sorcerer and – wait.

Merlin suddenly fists Arthur’s jumper, lifts his head from Arthur’s chest and fixes his eyes on him. 

“Say that again!” he orders.

“It’s almost like the role was created specifically for me?” Arthur raises one brow quizzically.

“Exactly!” Merlin claps his hands, places a lopsided kiss on Arthur’s lips and starts looking for his laptop among the pillows strewn on the sofa. 

It’s perfect, he has the perfect idea to continue his book, abso-fucking-lutely perfect. 

“I love you, I’d be lost without you, don’t you ever dare break up with me,” Merlin says while he starts throwing pillows to the floor, desperately looking for his laptop.

“You were the one tying to break up with me, Merls!” Arthur rebuts with mirth. 

“Inconsequential, you’re not allowed to leave me. Now, I just need to find my lapto-“ 

More pillows on the floor, his jacket, hi beanie, but no sign of what he’s looking for. 

“Merlin!” Arthur snaps and Merlin immediately turns to look at him. “It’s on your bed,” Arthur informs him, rolling his eyes. 

Merlin beams at him, closes the distance between them and gets on his tiptoes to kiss Arthur once again. “See? I told you, I’d be lost without you.” Another kiss. “Thank you love,” Merlin finally adds while he begins making a beeline for his desk. 

The last thing Merlin sees before he closes the door of the bedroom behind his back is Arthur’s proud smile. 

The last thing he hears a loud “Merry Christmas, babe”. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I would really really love to know what you think of it, kudos, comments and feedback mean the world to me! :)


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